


Postcards I: Love's Heartstrings

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Fiction, Holidays, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-13
Updated: 2003-02-13
Packaged: 2018-11-20 07:13:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11331003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Mulder relieves Skinner's boredom, and in the process captures his heart.





	Postcards I: Love's Heartstrings

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Postcards I: Love's Heartstrings

### Postcards I: Love's Heartstrings

#### by Jo B

Title: Postcards I: Love's Heartstrings 

Author: Jo B 

Keywords: M/Sk slash 

Rating: NC-17 

Category: Holiday Fic, First time 

Summary: Mulder relieves Skinner's boredom, and captures his heart in the process. 

Spoilers: Yes 

Disclaimer: The X-Files are the property Chris Carter, 1013 productions and Fox Broadcasting. 

Warning! This story contains romance between two men. Turn back now, if the subject matter offends you. 

Archive: Okay to archive just leave my name attached. 

Web site: http://slashingmulder.com/JoB/ 

Author's notes: This is for a Mulder Valentine's Day challenge on the X-Hale list. The only requirement is to fit an airline ticket into the story. 

For this story, let's pretend that Mulder isn't on the run, the Gunmen are alive, there are no such thing as super soldiers...oh heck let's just pretend that season 9 never happened, and that season 8 ended after Vienen. The baby isn't Mulder's and he never had sex with the redhead! Well that makes me feel so much better. :-) 

As the urge hits me, I'll be writing additional self-contained stories in the Postcard universe. This is not meant to be a WIP. 

Oh yeah, a schmoop advisory is being issued for this story. 

Major thanks to Joey for beta-reading this story. 

* * *

Postcards I: Love's Heartstrings 

Friday, January 24, 2003 

Skinner set the ballpoint pen down on the desk blotter then took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. 

Routine. 

The same old boring routine, day in day out. Once upon a time he had enjoyed his work and looked forward to each new day. Now it had become a meaningless job, his career was at a standstill. All hope for any further advancement ended the day he had put personal honor and idealistic sense of justice ahead of his career by standing up to the corrupt forces within the FBI. He could have had Kersh's job if he had been a good soldier and looked the other way when his X-Files agents' lives had been threatened. But no he could not leave Mulder and Scully to the wolves. His stance had cost him personally as well as professionally. They had set him up for the murder of a prostitute, then killed his wife, and even tried to kill him. He was reminded of that every time he looked at the scar the assassin's bullet had left on his body. 

Skinner wouldn't even think about what Krycek had done to him and forced him do to Mulder. Thinking about it was just too painful. Thankfully, Skinner hadn't seen Krycek for almost two years and he hoped he never laid eyes on that ratbastard again. His gut still twisted at the memory of unplugging Mulder's life support. 

Skinner sighed, even after all he'd been through one would have thought he'd welcome the quiet routine his life and career had become, but he didn't...something was missing. 

At least when Mulder worked at the bureau, Skinner knew there was a good possibility for a little excitement to breakup the weekly grind. 

Not that Doggett and Reyes did a bad job on the X-Files, their solve rate was quite good, they just didn't have the same passion for the work that Mulder had had. Not once had they come into his office all excited about investigating some weird case out in Nowheresville U.S.A. involving aliens, werewolves, or something even more outlandish. It was just a job to them. To Mulder the X-Files had been as vital to his life as was food and air. It was as if each new case provided a piece to some larger puzzle he had been putting together in his mind that would answer all of his questions once it was complete. Now it looked like it would remain forever incomplete. 

Skinner opened his desk drawer, pulled out a leather badge holder, and opened it. It contained Mulder's FBI badge and photo id. He unconsciously caressed the photograph with his thumb. Nearly two years had gone by since Kersh had fired Mulder, and Skinner had never turned his badge or id into personnel. 

Immediately after Mulder had lost his job, Skinner had been worried about him. How could anyone survive what Mulder had gone through over the past six months, and then lose his job on top of it? Life just kept slapping Mulder down, and Skinner had been concerned that he might not be able to get back up this time. The two times he had dropped by Mulder's apartment to see how he was doing, his former agent just said he was doing fine. Skinner thought he seemed aloof and melancholy, which worried him even more. Then shortly after Scully had her baby, Mulder just upped and disappeared. If it hadn't been for Scully's assurances that Mulder was safe, Skinner would have feared that he had been abducted again or worse, found a quiet place to end it all. 

It had been surprised Skinner when Scully finally confided to him that Mulder wasn't the father of her baby...that they had never been lovers. Although Mulder had agreed to her request to use his sperm so she could try to have a baby through IVF, it had been unsuccessful. Scully said she had been shocked to find herself pregnant since she thought she was barren. The baby's father had been a man she had been seeing on and off for a couple of years. This news had come as a relief to Skinner, since he had never known what the relationship was between his two agents and he was secretly glad they had never been lovers. 

Skinner sighed as he finally accepted the truth that he had been trying so hard to deny...he missed Mulder. He hadn't realized how much until he saw Mulder again, a few weeks ago, on New Years Eve. Frohike had invited him over to celebrate News Years Eve with them. Usually he would have turned them down, not because he didn't like them, he just didn't celebrate New Years any longer. Then Frohike had mentioned that Mulder would be there, and it had been over a year since Skinner had last seen Mulder, so he decided to go. They spent the whole evening talking and reminiscing, and for once in a long time, Skinner had enjoyed himself. 

A knock on the office door jolted him out of his brooding. "Yes," Skinner answered as he placed the badge case back in the desk drawer then slipped back on his wirerims. 

"Sir, the mail is here," Kim said, entering the office she walked over to his desk. 

"Thanks, Kim." Skinner took the pile of envelopes and magazines from her. From the stack, a brightly colored postcard fell out and landed on his desk. 

He wondered who would be sending him a postcard. As far as he knew no one from his family was on a trip anywhere. His family hardly ever left Iowa. 

He set the envelopes aside and looked at the photograph on the front of the postcard. It was taken from the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. The scene was pretty and tranquil. He turned the card over and read the handwritten note. [Walter, did you know Tuskaloosa was named after the Choctaw Indian chief Tuskaloosa? "Tushka", means warrior, and the "Lusa", means black. F] The card was postmarked from Tuskaloosa, Alabama. 

He recognized Mulder's handwriting and wondered what his former agent was doing in Alabama. 

Skinner picked up the telephone and called down to the basement office. 

"Doggett," the voice answered. 

"Agent, has there been any recent cases involving Alabama?" 

"No, sir. Why do you ask?" 

"Never mind...it's not important," Skinner said as he hung up. He slipped the postcard into the pocket of his suit coat, then picked up his pen, and went back to work. 

While he worked his mind kept going back to the postcard in his pocket. When he finally left the office that evening, on his way home Skinner stopped at a bookstore and purchased a book on Alabama. He had the whole weekend to read it. 

* * *

Monday, January 27, 2003 

Monday brought another postcard from Mulder. This one was postmarked Knoxville, Tennessee. It had a photograph of a growling bear that had been taken at the Knoxville Zoo. [Walter, he reminded me of you. Don't you think? F] 

Skinner shook his head as he reread the note before slipping the card into the breast pocket of his suit coat while again wondering what Mulder was up to. 

He gathered his paperwork into a leather executive folder and headed off to his budget meeting with Kersh. 

* * *

Tuesday, January 28, 2003 

The next day, Skinner was in a good mood and even looked forward to work. 

"Good morning, Kim," he said as he arrived at the office. 

"Good morning, sir. You seem chipper." 

Skinner only smiled at her then entered his office. He sat behind his desk and started on a pile of paperwork. 

At eleven o'clock, his telephone buzzed. It was Kim announcing that Doggett and Reyes had arrived for their scheduled meeting. 

He glanced up as they entered his office. Doggett sat on the chair that Scully used to sit on while Reyes chose Mulder's preferred chair. Skinner could still picture Mulder in that chair, the way his long lanky body would either relax casually or be fidgety, as he desperately wanted to head off on one of his X-Files. 

"Is something wrong, sir?" Reyes asked. 

"Um, no." Skinner picked up a case folder. "Agent Reyes, I was going over the case notes from your last field assignment and I'm having a hard time reading your handwriting, could you, please, type them up?" 

"Yes, sir." Reyes took the folder back. 

"Sir, did you get a chance to look over my request for a 302 to investigate the alleged alien abduction down in New Mexico?" Doggett asked. 

"Yes. I've approved your request." Skinner handed him the signed 302. "If there isn't anything else, you may leave." 

"Thank you, sir." Doggett and Reyes stood and headed for the door. 

"And, Agents, have a safe trip," Skinner said. 

Doggett and Reyes looked at each other as they left the office and closed the door behind them. 

Reyes whispered. "Skinner said _please_ he never says please. Do you think he's feeling okay?" 

Doggett shrugged. "You've got me." 

They headed off down the hallway. 

The telephone on Kim's desk buzzed, she pressed the speaker button. "Yes, sir." 

"Has the mail arrived yet?" 

"Yes, sir. I'll bring it right in." She wondered about her boss's sudden interest in the mail as she picked up the pile, carried it into the office, and handed it to him. He had never seemed to care when it had arrived in the past. 

Skinner flipped through the mail until he came to the postcard. The postmark was from two days ago, in Slade, Kentucky. Skinner noticed that the card had first class airmail postage on it, which accounted for him getting it so quickly. The photograph on the front was of a 40-foot thick natural sandstone bridge that spanned 85 feet over a hilltop in the Daniel Boone National Forest. [Walter, you should see this place, it's magnificent...I feel like I'm on another planet. Too bad I only have today to spend here. F] 

Skinner reread the last line and wondered what schedule Mulder was on that he couldn't spend more than a day at each stop, since the postmarks on each of the three cards, he'd received so far, were only a day apart. Skinner estimated the time to drive from the location in Alabama to Tennessee to be about six hours and from Tennessee to Kentucky to be about five hours. So if Mulder left each location early in the morning, he'd arrive around noon at his next destination and would have plenty of time for sightseeing. The idea of Mulder as a tourist seemed too out of character for his former agent, so something else had to be up...but what? 

When Skinner arrived home that evening, he placed the new postcard next to the other two on his coffee table, before going into his bathroom to take a shower. As he showered, his mind turned to fantasies about his former agent. He reached down and jerked off to a fantasy he often had about kissing Mulder, only this time he was doing it deep within a pine-scented forest under the tall evergreens. 

* * *

Wednesday, January 29, 2003 

Wednesday's postcard was from Columbus, Ohio. It was from the Columbus Optical SETI Observatory. [Walter, you know me, I couldn't stop in Ohio without a trip to the SETI Observatory. I met a couple of guys here from NICAP. They were friends of Max Fenig...we shared a few drinks, in his memory. F]" 

Skinner could feel the pain in Mulder's brief message. 

On his way home from work Skinner stopped at the bookstore and purchased a wall map of North America. 

He hung the map on his wall and started charting the locations where each of the postcards had originated. Maybe he could figure out where Mulder was going and why. 

* * *

Thursday, January 30, 2003 

The next day, not only did a postcard arrive but also a package. They were both from Tony Packo Caf in Toledo, Ohio. The package contained pickles and hot dog sauce, along with a Mud Hens' baseball cap. [Walter, I can now say I had a chilidog at Packo's. You know the place that Corporal Max Klinger used to talk about on MASH. There's nothing more delicious than wrapping one's lips around a nice fat hotdog. F] 

Skinner swallowed and his cock twitched at the thought of Mulder's lips around it. Did Mulder word the card intentionally for that reaction? Or was it just perfectly innocent? 

There was a knock on the door and John Doggett poked his head inside. "Sir, do you have a moment?" 

"Yes, come in. So I take it your case in New Mexico didn't pan out?" 

"We never even got to fly down there. The teenagers were pulling a prank on the local sheriff's deputy. They fessed up when the sheriff grilled them." Doggett stopped at Skinner's desk. "Hey, is that from Tony Packo's?" 

"You're familiar with this restaurant?" Skinner asked. He had never watched MASH. After Vietnam, Skinner had had his fill of war, and he could never watch a show that revolved around a MASH unit--not after his intimate experience with one. 

"Sure, they serve some great dogs. If I'm anywhere near Toledo on a case I always make a side trip there." 

"Well, it seems you and Mulder have something in common." 

"The package is from him? What's he doing in Toledo?" 

"I assume he was stopping for a chilidog." 

Doggett looked at Skinner speculatively, as the older man pocketed the postcard he'd been reading. 

"John, if you're not doing anything Saturday, I'll pick up some hotdogs and we can test their hotdog sauce and watch some NASCAR." 

"Hey, I'd like that, Walt. What time should I be there?" 

"Noon, the first race starts at twelve-thirty." 

"Great, I'll bring the beer," Doggett said as he headed out of the office. 

* * *

Friday, January 31, 2003 

Once Kimberly had figured out the reason for her boss's good mood, she made sure that the mailroom delivered the mail as quickly as possible. It took a lot of willpower for her not to read the postcards. She did glance at the pictures on them. 

"Sir, the mail is here," she announced as she carried it into his office. 

Skinner took the mail from her, pulled the postcard from among the envelopes then leaned back in his chair to read it. 

Kim smiled at the boyish look of excitement on his handsome face. She had never seen that look on his face before. The way his eyes sparkled and the small smile that spread across his lips actually made him look years younger. She left the office and closed the door behind her. 

The postcard was postmarked from Muskegon, Michigan. The photograph was of a sunset over Lake Michigan. [Walter, I'm staying at the Port Victorian Inn Bed  & Breakfast. It's like a step back in time. There is a cold wind blowing off Lake Michigan. I have a fire lit in the hearth and am sipping a hot butter rum. You should see the four-poster mahogany bed its large enough for two tall men. F] 

The hotdog comment from yesterday was vague, but the bed comment was too obvious. Skinner had a warm feeling in his belly at the thought that Mulder was coming on to him, even if he was doing it from hundreds of miles a way and from a couple of days ago. Was that what this was about? Was Mulder trying to seduce him? No, that couldn't be it. It just didn't make any sense. How would Mulder know he'd be receptive? 

Tomorrow was Saturday, so there'd be no postcard unless Mulder sent it to his apartment. Somehow Skinner doubted he would do that, since last weekend he hadn't received a card. 

He was tempted to call Dana Scully and find out if she knew what Mulder was up to. But for some reason Skinner didn't want anyone else to become part of this fantasy trip Mulder was conducting for him. 

Fantasy. That was what it had become, he dreamed each night of the place that was on the postcard. He dreamed of being there with Mulder and sharing the experience. He dreamed of the look that would be on Mulder's beautiful face. The way his hazel eyes would light up with excitement at each new discovery. 

With the exception of Doggett coming over to his place tomorrow, this weekend would be filled with dreams of lying on a soft mattress, while holding Mulder in his arms. In a room lit only by the firelight as a cold wind roared outside across the great lake. He smiled looking forward to going home, now that he wouldn't be there alone. 

* * *

Saturday, February 1, 2003 

Doggett finished his third hotdog as he sat on the sofa with one foot propped up on the coffee table next to Skinner's foot. "How's Mulder doing?" he asked, pulling his eyes off the television screen. 

Skinner glanced at him. "He seems to be doing fine. I saw him on New Years Eve and he looked good. Mulder said that he spent the past year recovering mentally from his abduction." 

"Good for him. You seem happy lately, does that have to do with Mulder being back?" 

"I don't know what you mean," Skinner said, picking up his beer. 

"Walt, I know he means more to you than as a mere friend." 

"Why would you think that?" 

"I'm a trained detective. When we first met, you were upset over his abduction. Then after we found his body you became withdrawn. When Billy Miles was discovered alive, you were adamant about having Mulder's body exhumed. Walt, it wouldn't bother me if you're gay...I know Mulder is queerer than a three dollar bill." 

Skinner choked on a mouthful of beer. "John, Mulder and I were never involved sexually! I care about him because we've been through hell together. Let's just leave it at that." 

"Okay, I didn't mean to pry." Doggett turned his attention back to the television screen. He found it curious that Skinner didn't even challenge his assertion that Mulder was gay, much less himself. 

* * *

Monday, February 3, 2003 

By Monday, Skinner felt like an addict in need of a fix. He walked into his office and placed a yellow rose in a bud vase on Kim's desk. He then spent the morning watching the clock. 

When the mail finally arrived, the postcard was from Madison, Wisconsin. It was of a hovering spaceship that was really the Monona Terrace Community Center. Frank Lloyd Wright had designed the building. [Walter, Wisconsin is my sort of state. I think you'd like it here. The people are laid back and friendly. And the food and brew are fine. Love, F] 

Skinner placed his finger over the word 'Love' on the postcard. 

Could it be possible? 

Skinner closed his eyes as he realized that Mulder had figured him out. All those years where he thought he had hidden his feelings so well and Mulder had known just what he was hiding. Skinner thought he should have guessed, considering how Mulder always stood by his side and trusted him, even when Mulder had every reason not to trust him. 

At home that evening Skinner marked Madison, Wisconsin off on the map. He still couldn't make out any pattern to Mulder's stops. 

As he lay in bed that evening, he jerked off to thoughts of Mulder. He'd been infatuated with the man ever since the moment he'd first laid eyes on him. Over the years, infatuation had turned to respect and eventually to love. 

* * *

Tuesday, February 4, 2003 

The weirdest postcard came from Iowa. The postmark was from Ottumwa, and the card had a photograph of pigs on it. Skinner thought Mulder somehow found out that his family was from that section of Iowa, until he read the postcard and it proved to be some strange coincidence that Mulder had chosen the place where Skinner had grown up for one of his stops. [Walter, whatever you do don't drive alone through Iowa in February. Talk about boring and cold. The motel's walls are paper-thin. I wish I had someone to cuddle against for warmth. Love, F] 

He enjoyed the image that popped into his mind of cuddling in bed with Mulder. If only he could figure out the pattern to Mulder's travels and get ahead of him. Someday he'd have to show Mulder the Iowa he remembered, including his family's farm. 

A strange thought suddenly occurred to Skinner. He picked up the telephone and dialed the Gunmen's number. 

"Lone Gunman," the voice answered. 

"Langly, turn off the tape and put Frohike on." 

He heard Langly call for the oldest Gunman. "Hey, Melvin, Skinman's on the line." 

Skinner sighed. He was going to have a word with Mulder about telling them his old nickname. 

"What can I do for you, Walter?" 

"Was it Mulder who asked you to invite me to your New Years Eve party?" 

"Um, well the whole party was his idea." 

"So he arranged the guest list?" 

"Well, you were the only one on his guest list. Everyone else that showed up were our friends." 

"Okay, I see...thanks." 

Skinner thought back to New Years Eve and his long conversation with Mulder. He found out that Mulder had taken time over the past year to recover mentally from his abduction. He'd spent most of it in the outback of Australia with a friend with whom he had gone through Oxford. After he was fired, Mulder said he realized that he was still suffering mentally from his abduction and needed to get as far away from his previous life as possible. When his friend had extended the invitation to stay with her in Australia he had accepted. It hadn't hurt that Amanda was a psychologist and had been able to help him recover. 

At the time, Skinner had felt guilty that he'd had no idea what Mulder had been going through. Even the couple of times he tried to get Mulder to talk to him, his former agent had kept him at arms length. He wished Mulder would have come to him for help, but he could understand Mulder's reluctance to involve him. Skinner had been part of the life that Mulder needed to escape, and while they were friends, their relationship had never moved past boss and employee. 

One thing Skinner never found out from that evening was what Mulder was doing now that he was back in the states. 

* * *

Wednesday, February 5, 2003 

Kim looked at the photograph of a little house on a prairie that was on the postcard. She carried the mail into her boss. "Sir, the mailroom is beginning talk about these postcards you're getting. They're taking bets on the woman's identity." 

"Let them talk." Skinner smiled as he read the postcard from Walnut Grove, Minnesota. [Walter, I made it all the way to Minnesota only to find out that the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum is closed in February. I can understand why! It's fucking cold in Minnesota in February! I wish you were with me...I could use a little extra body heat. Love, F] 

The last bit gave him a warm feeling throughout his body. 

That evening when Skinner marked Walnut Grove on the map a pattern was finally forming. He couldn't believe what he thought Mulder was creating with each of his weird sightseeing stops. If he were right, then this would be the craziest and most romantic thing someone had ever done for him. 

"Mulder, you're a nutcase." Skinner chuckled as he walked into the kitchen to make dinner for himself. He stopped and patted his stomach. Instead of the steak and baked potato he had planned, he took out a head of lettuce and a tomato from the fridge and made a simple salad with vinaigrette dressing. 

Tomorrow he would start hitting the gym again after work. He'd gotten lax in working out over the past several months. 

* * *

Thursday, February 6, 2003 

Early the next morning, before work, Skinner decided to use the treadmill in the exercise room at his building. After he finished working out, he went back to his apartment to shower and dress for work. 

Skinner spent a few minutes studying his naked body in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom. For a man of fifty, he was still in pretty good shape. His chest hairs were completely gray which made his nipples appear darker. He looked down at his penis nestled in a thick growth of pubic hair and his heavy balls. They were impressive. Skinner wrapped his fingers around his shaft, so thick they barely touched even flaccid. He turned and looked at his ass. It was a little flatter and wider than it had been in his youth when his older marine fuck buddy used to refer to it as a bubble butt. He made a muscle with his arm. Next he traced the scars on his lower body; most were from shrapnel he'd received from his near death experience in Vietnam. The two bullet wounds were from his career in the FBI. Skinner realized as he looked down at his muscular thighs and hairy calves that he was concerned about what Mulder would think of his body. 

When Skinner had seen Mulder on New Years Eve, his former agent looked even better than he had when he used to work for him. Mulder had a healthy tan to go with his natural good looks, and he even had a bit more muscle on his otherwise long lean build. 

Mulder must see something in him to go through the trouble of dreaming up this postcard seduction. What was Mulder hoping for? Was it sex? Or something else? 

Skinner finished dressing and headed off for work. If he was right about the pattern then the next post card would come from somewhere in the southeastern section of South Dakota. 

He wasn't disappointed when the mail arrived later in the morning he was looking at a photo of the Corn Palace on the front of the postcard before turning it over to read the handwritten note. [Walter, did you know that every year they replace the corn and grain on the palace with the new harvest, since during the year birds would use it as a giant bird feeder? I feel like my trip to Australia replaced some of what had been taken from my life. Love, F] The card was postmarked from Mitchell, South Dakota. 

On his way home that evening, Skinner stopped off at the gym and spent an hour working out with weights. 

* * *

Friday, February 7, 2003 

The next morning, he worked out on the treadmill again before work. He even did pushups, getting only up to fifty before he tired. He was still a bit sore from lifting weights last night. He hadn't realized how out of shape he had gotten. 

Friday's postcard was postmarked Gothenburg, Nebraska. It had a photograph of the old Pony Express Station on it. [Walter, did you know that the Pony Express only existed from 1860 to 1861? I can picture you sweaty and dusty riding a horse. What are your thoughts on playing cowboy? Love, F] 

Skinner smiled. He was in love and the person of his affections, who he'd thought was unattainable, was the one romancing him with such a simple gesture as postcards. Leave it to Mulder to do something so weird and sweet. 

He pocketed the postcard and sighed. To be suddenly happy, after despairing over the past couple of years gave Skinner a heady feeling inside. 

He thought back, to the time he had stood stunned with a crushing sense of hopelessness in the forest outside of Bellefleur, Oregon, only moments after he'd witnessed a UFO abduct Mulder. He'd cried for the first time in years, then he spent the next months secretly searching all police reports and Internet UFO newsgroups for any scrap of information that could lead him to Mulder. Only to have the information he'd finally received lead him and his agents to Mulder's dead mutilated body. After the funeral, the next three months had been a haze of drunken nights and long workdays. 

The only thing that finally pulled Skinner out of it was the report that Billy Miles' bloated body had been recovered from the ocean after it had floated for months, and finding out the young man was still alive. Skinner had his first glimmer of hope and ordered Mulder's body exhumed. His whole being had been chilled with fear of what he'd find inside that coffin as he watched it lifted from the grave then transported to the morgue. 

He had ordered the crowd of people that were standing around, with a ghoulish curiosity about them, out of the morgue. Even in death he wanted to protect Mulder's dignity. Only he, John, and the coroner remained. When the coroner had lifted the lid on the coffin and Skinner had gotten his first look at Mulder since he and Doggett had found his body in the woods, he knew that Mulder wasn't dead. He could feel it in his soul. 

Doggett hadn't been convinced. It was only when the coroner had found a heartbeat and detected brainwave activity had Doggett accepted that Mulder wasn't technically dead. 

The hospital struggled to keep Mulder alive only to have his condition worsen under their efforts. It was at this low point that life had kicked Skinner in the balls once again as Krycek put in an appearance, demanding the death of Scully's unborn baby for a cure to Mulder's condition. Krycek forced Skinner to make the hardest decision of his life; he unplugged the life support keeping Mulder alive. 

That inexplicable act of sacrificing the one person who meant more to Skinner than his own life, led to the first sign of hope. With the life support off Mulder showed a small sign of improvement. A few hours later as Scully treated him with anti-virals, Mulder started back on the road to a miraculous recovery. And Skinner hadn't seen Krycek since that tense moment at Mulder's hospital bed. 

That night on his way home, Skinner stopped at the bookstore and picked up a book on the Pony Express. He skipped the gym, opting to swim laps in his apartment building's swimming pool. He had all weekend to spend working out. 

* * *

Monday, February 10, 2003 

Monday's postcard had a photograph of a sunflower on it that brought back memories of the times when Skinner had entered the basement office to find Mulder eating seeds as he worked. The erotic way Mulder's mouth would work the small seed free of its shell had caused the blood to pool in Skinner's groin as he imagined what that mouth would feel like around his cock. Now Skinner wondered if Mulder had been aware of the affect that his seed chewing had on him. 

[Walter, I'm in the Sunflower State, stocking up on seeds. Today I've visited Fort Dodge and the Gunfighters Wax Museum. I sent you a photograph taken of me standing next to Wyatt Earp. Do spurs and chaps do anything for you? Love, F] 

Skinner flipped through the mail but, to his disappointment, there wasn't an envelope from Dodge City, Kansas. 

When he arrived home after a stop at the gym, Skinner retrieved his mail from his box in the lobby. To his delight Mulder had sent the envelope to his home address. He hurried up to his apartment, walked into the kitchen, and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He sat at the counter and opened the envelope. Inside was a photo that appeared to have been printed off a high-quality inkjet printer from a digital camera. It showed Mulder dressed in tight-fitting jeans, chaps, spurs, and wearing a black Stetson on his head. He stood next to a wax figure of a man sporting a droopy mustache. 

"Oh yeah, Mulder, spurs and chaps definitely do something for me." Skinner smiled as he traced his finger over the obvious bulge in Mulder's tight fitting jeans. "If you were here I'd show you just how much." 

* * *

Tuesday, February 11, 2003 

On the front of the next postcard was a photograph of the Crystal Bridge from the Myriad Botanical Gardens in Oklahoma. [Walter, after spending so much time in the cold Midwest this place is like an oasis. Besides the gardens, they have a fishpond with a waterfall. When I settle down, I want a house with a fishpond and a waterfall. Love, F] 

That statement brought some intense fantasies to Skinner. As he lay in bed that evening, he dreamed of owning a house in the city with Fox. Their backyard would have the fishpond and waterfall. It would also have flower and vegetable gardens, a hammock, trees where birdfeeders could be hung, and a tall wooden fence for privacy. 

Skinner rolled over on his side, closed his eyes, and fell to sleep with a smile on his lips. 

* * *

Wednesday, February 12, 2003 

On his way into work that morning Skinner stopped and picked up some real-estate booklets. Would Fox want to live in DC or would he want to live elsewhere? Skinner sighed, it didn't matter, right now this was purely his fantasy, and if it became a reality then he'd be willing to move anywhere to be with Fox. Skinner realized that he had started thinking of Mulder as Fox. Fox was the man who was seducing him and signing his postcards with an F. 

When he arrived back from his meeting with Kersh, Kim handed him the stack of mail with the postcard on top. 

On the front was a photograph of a cowboy swinging a lasso as he chased after a steer. Skinner thought the image was fitting. The postmark was from Mount Pleasant, Texas. [Walter, only one more stop on my journey. I miss you. Love, F] 

Later that night, when Skinner marked Mount Pleasant, Texas on the map, he was able to guess Mulder's final destination. He marked its location on the map then connected the dot with the location of Mulder's first postcard from Tuskaloosa, Alabama. The map now had a large heart drawn on it. Skinner smiled. He looked forward to receiving Mulder's final postcard. Maybe it would explain what this was all about. 

* * *

Thursday, February 13, 2003 

The final postcard was delivered inside a Federal Express envelope with an airline ticket to New Orleans, along with directions to an Inn located in the City's French Quarters. The postcard had a picture of a heart and a simple note. [Walter, if you're interested in being my Valentine use the ticket. Love, Fox] 

Skinner picked up the airline ticket. Could he go through with this? Could he give Mulder what he wanted? After all this time of unrequited love how could he not? For once in his life Skinner would follow his heart. Mulder had taken a big chance and so could he. 

He picked up the telephone and dialed Kersh's number. 

"Alvin, it's Walter. I'm taking some personal time, starting tomorrow." If Kersh turned him down, then he would resign on the spot. 

"How long?" Kersh had heard the determination in Skinner's voice and knew this wasn't a time to deny his request. Skinner was the best Assistant Director in the bureau and Kersh didn't want to cause a rift with him over something so minor as time off. 

"At least a week." 

"Okay, I'll have A.D. Cassidy fill in for you." 

"Thank you, sir." After he hung up, Skinner released a sigh...then a smile spread across his handsome face. Tomorrow he'd finally see Fox in person and his fantasies would become a reality. 

* * *

Valentine's Day 

Skinner looked out the taxicab's window at the beautiful city of New Orleans. The City was packed with tourists there for Mardi Gras. He'd only been to New Orleans a couple of times on business, but never during Mardi Gras and he never made it to the French Quarters. The celebration had started this year on January 6th and would end on Fat Tuesday on March 4th, with parades held on the weekends. He looked forward to exploring the city with Fox. 

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his beige cotton slacks, and realized that he was actually nervous to the point of having butterflies in his stomach. The last time Skinner had been this nervous was during his first combat offensive in 'Nam. 

The taxicab stopped in front of a beautiful old Inn with a front porch, and wrought iron railings around balconies off the second and third floor rooms. Skinner's heart leaped into his throat as he noticed Mulder rise from a rocking chair on the porch and walk over to stand at the top of the steps. Mulder was dressed in white cotton slacks with sandals. He wore a sleeveless white undershirt tucked into the slacks. Over the undershirt he had on an opened white cotton jacket. Sunlight glittered off a small silver cross, hanging from a thin silver chain around his neck. Sex on two legs was the first thought that leaped to Skinner's mind. 

Skinner climbed out of the cab and paid the taxi driver after the man retrieved his suitcase and carryon from the trunk. 

He carried his bags up the short sidewalk, stopped at the bottom of the steps, and looked up at Mulder. 

"You came," Mulder said. 

As Skinner looked at him, he realized that Mulder was just as nervous as he was. 

"You had doubts?" 

"I couldn't be sure what your reaction would be." He smiled sheepishly. "I was afraid that you might throw the postcards in the trash out of annoyance." 

Skinner set his bags down and walked up the three steps to stand in front of him. His nervousness evaporated when he gazed into Mulder's uncertain eyes. Skinner placed his hands on the sides of the younger man's face as he leaned and kissed him. The kiss was slow at first...tentative...until Mulder's arms looped around his back and brought their bodies together. 

Skinner enjoyed feeling Mulder's strong arms wrapped around him. His finger's combed through thick silky hairs at the back of the younger man's head as their kiss deepened. A moan escaped Mulder's lips as Skinner slipped his tongue inside the hot sweet mouth. The hardness of Mulder's erection pressed against his made it an effort for Skinner to keep his ardor under control. This was even better than he had fantasized. Mulder's lips were soft and warm, and he smelled clean and masculine just as Skinner remembered him. 

"Mm, you taste sweet," Skinner murmured as he lowered his hands to Mulder's shoulders. 

"I just had a beignet." Mulder licked his lips. "Why don't we get your bags up to the room and I'll show you around." 

Skinner nodded, leaned in, and placed another gentle kiss on Mulder's lips. He pulled away, smiled, and walked down the steps to get his bags. "I'm surprised you could find a place this nice during Mardi Gras." 

Mulder took the suitcase from him, leaving Skinner with the carryon. "I made reservations on New Years day, even then I was lucky to get this room." 

"You had this planned since New Years Day?" Skinner asked as they walked inside the inn. 

The man at the desk, looked up, smiled at Skinner, and winked at Mulder. 

Mulder grinned back as he led Skinner over to an old elevator and pressed the button. 

"Walter, I had to make sure there was a possibility that you'd be open to a relationship with me, and I didn't know that until I saw you on New Years Eve." The doors slid open and they stepped inside, Mulder pushed the button for the second floor of the three-story inn. 

"How did you know I'd be open?" 

"Your eyes, Walter. I noticed the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn't paying attention...it gave me hope." 

The elevator opened on their floor and they stepped off. Skinner followed Mulder down the short hallway. 

"Why didn't you approach me then? Why go through this much trouble?" 

Mulder opened the door with the room key. Then he handed it to Skinner. He had a second key on the dresser. "I wasn't sure if you were ready at that moment or even aware of what you wanted. Then you mentioned how bored you were at work, so I decided to take a chance that by relieving your boredom it might entice you into my bed." 

"Only your bed?" Skinner asked. 

Mulder smiled. "I didn't want to presume anything more. Besides I'm still fighting them...I can't give that up." 

Skinner frowned then pushed Mulder up against the closed door and claimed his lips in a fiery kiss. After several minutes, Skinner loosened his hold and they came up for air. 

"Fox, I didn't fly all the fucking way down here for a one night stand!" 

Mulder rested his hands on Skinner's narrow hips. He felt light-headed and breathless after that last kiss. Skinner was pure fire. He was everything and more than Mulder had fantasized about. "Walter, tell me what you want? I'll do anything for you." 

Skinner's fingers tenderly brushed the bangs off Mulder's forehead. "I want you. I've wanted you for the last ten years...but you knew that didn't you?" 

"I hadn't known what you felt for me until I returned to consciousness after being buried alive. Scully told me about how you cried after I'd been abducted. At the time, I was in no shape to care one way or another. I was barely functioning. I was bitter, angry, and confused. Scully was pregnant, I no longer had the X-Files, and one of my fucking fish had died." 

Skinner hugged him and kissed the side of his face. "You're better now, right?" 

"I'm fine, Walter. Amanda helped me work through a lot of issues." Mulder smiled sadly and took Skinner's hand in both of his, clutching it to his chest. "She made me see just what I was missing in my life...that there was more to life than hunting aliens." 

"I'm part of what was missing in your life?" 

"Yeah, a major part. You're the only reason I came back to D.C." Mulder raised a hand to Skinner's face his fingers tenderly caressed the smoothly shaven cheek. "C'mon, Walter, its lunchtime, there's a nice caf four blocks from here." 

"Okay, but we need to talk a lot more about you, and about us." 

"We have the whole weekend to talk and through Wednesday if you can stay. That's how long I've rented this room." 

"Then you must have been pretty sure that I would come." 

"No. I figured if you didn't show at least I could use the week to decide what I wanted to do next." Mulder shrugged. "Do you want to unpack your bags first?" 

"They can wait until we get back." 

Skinner glanced around the room for the first time. It had a Queen-sized mahogany bed with a canopy and wispy mosquito netting that hung from the canopy. Two French doors opened onto a balcony that looked out over the road below and the Mississippi River. The room was cozy and romantic. "Fox, give me a moment to use the bathroom," he said as he crossed the room and stepped into the bathroom. The room had a deep claw-footed bathtub and a separate shower. 

Skinner took off his wirerims and splashed cold water on his face before he used the toilet. His erection had diminished enough so he could urinate. He'd never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Mulder. All of the fantasies he had had over the years about the man would be realized there today...tonight. Tomorrow would be the start of a new life together...this Skinner was determined to make happen. Mulder had mentioned continuing his quest, and Skinner wouldn't deny him that as long as he was allowed to help him. 

He stepped out of the bathroom. "White's a nice color on you." 

Mulder smiled sheepishly, fingering the fabric. "I went shopping with Jon yesterday. He didn't think grimy jeans and my black leather jacket was an acceptable fashion statement for New Orleans. I also bought a black suit to wear to dinner tonight." 

"Is Jon the man at the front desk?" 

"Yeah, he owns this place. He's also gay and a self-professed matchmaker." 

Skinner stepped into Mulder's personal space, placed his hands on Mulder's waist, and looked him firmly in the eye. "He does know that you don't need his matchmaking services?" 

Mulder smiled, his hands moving up to rest on Skinner's broad shoulders. "I told him I was expecting someone." 

Mulder leaned in closer and tilted his head to capture Walter's lips in another kiss. Their lips met hungrily, no longer nervous or tentative about the intimate act. 

They smiled at each other as they left the room and took the elevator back to the lobby. Mulder led Walter over to the front desk where Jon was sitting reading a magazine. 

"Jon, this is Walter." 

"Walter." He shook Skinner's hand. "Your being here is going to cause some hearts to break." 

"How's that?" 

"Several of my clients saw me shopping with Fox yesterday, and they asked to be set up with him." 

Skinner reached down and took a hold of Mulder's hand. "Then it's a good thing I got here when I did." 

"Are you going to the parade tonight?" Jon asked. 

Mulder looked at Skinner and squeezed his hand. "No. We're going to be busy tonight, we'll catch the parades this weekend." 

Jon smiled knowingly. "Fox, I'll have those items you requested in your room by the time you get back from dinner tonight." 

"Thanks, Jon. We'll see you later, we're going to Caf Pontalba for lunch," Mulder said as they headed out of the inn. 

Skinner glanced around as they walked through the lively city that was teaming with tourists. He saw the French Market down the block as they crossed the street and walked by Jackson square to an open-air caf. The square was filled with artists and several musicians. They were shown to their table, which gave Skinner a perfect view of the St. Louis Cathedral. The waiter took their drink orders. 

"You're right, this place is nice," Skinner said as he looked over the menu. 

"Jon helped me get reservations at Brennan's for dinner tonight. It's nearly impossible to get reservations there without at least a couple of week's notice and this is Valentine's Day." 

"I've heard of Brennan's," Skinner said, "I didn't pack a suit and tie, do you mind if we stop at a clothing store before going back to the inn?" 

"I don't mind." 

The waiter came back with their drinks. "Have you decided what you'd like?" 

"I'll have the Shrimp Creole," Skinner said. 

"Bring me the Oyster sandwich." Mulder handed the menu back to the waiter and looked over at Skinner. "You do know that oysters are aphrodisiacs," he said after the waiter left. 

Skinner chuckled as he picked up his drink. "I don't think either of us needs an aphrodisiac." 

Mulder picked up the iced tea. "Have you ever had sex with another man?" 

"In the Marines I had a buddy...we had sex but we were never what you'd consider lovers." Skinner looked into Mulder's hazel eyes. "You're the only man I've ever kissed. I want you as a lover, Fox, this isn't just about sex." 

Mulder's face lit with a grin. "And I want to be your lover." 

"What about you? Have you had any past experiences?" 

"Yes." Mulder looked down at the table. "Twelve years ago, I had a brief relationship with a homicide detective in the Baltimore PD. He was killed while trying to arrest a murder suspect." 

"I'm sorry." 

"It was a long time ago. We were only involved for three months, but in that short time it was something special, I'll always remember him." Mulder smiled sadly. Then he reached across the table, and placed his hand on top of Skinner's. "Walter, this day is ours, let's not allow our pasts to intrude." 

Skinner turned his hand over and squeezed Mulder's fingers. "I want you to tell me all about him some day." 

The waiter came back with their food. Skinner enjoyed the Creole, but most of his attention was focused on watching Mulder. He just couldn't keep his eyes off him. "You're beautiful," he announced. 

"You're not serious?" Mulder chuckled as he popped a French fry in his mouth. 

"I'm quite serious. Your looks were what first attracted me to you. Then I discovered how absolutely brilliant and passionate you are." 

Mulder looked into Skinner's warm brown eyes and smiled. "I was first attracted to you the day you ordered the smoker out of your office. I had expected you to fire my ass, not to stick up for me against him. Until that moment, I had thought you were part of the conspiracy." 

"So many wasted years," Skinner sighed, "I suppose it was mostly my fault. When I realized that I was attracted sexually to you, I made sure to keep you at arm's length. I didn't want you to find out how I felt, since I was pretty sure that you were straight and sleeping with Scully, plus you were my subordinate." 

"Walter, I love Scully like a sister, but we are too much like oil and water to have ever been anything other than friends. Besides I like my dates tall, hair optional," he quipped. 

Skinner snorted, and then asked, "Have you seen Scully since you got back?" 

"No. I haven't had a chance to make it out to Colorado. I have talked with her over the telephone. She's happy with her new job and home, and she and Hank have been talking about getting married. She says William has started talking, and they were taking him for his first haircut." 

"Scully deserved some peace and happiness in her life," Skinner said as he snatched a couple fries off Mulder's plate. "And so do we." 

"I'll settle for some happiness and companionship...I doubt I'll ever have peace until they are stopped." 

They finished eating and Mulder picked up the tab. When Skinner attempted to pay his share, Mulder shook his head. "You're my Valentine today, if you want you can pay for lunch tomorrow." 

"Okay, as long as I'm allowed to treat you at some point," Skinner said, "Where to now?" 

"Clothes shopping for something you can wear at Brennan's tonight." 

They walked down the street and by a shop selling all sorts of masks. 

"Let's go in and look around," Mulder said. 

Skinner followed him into the shop, and stopped before a display of colorful Mardi Gras' masks, decorated with feathers. 

Mulder was over looking at some beautiful Italian masks. "What do you think?" he finally asked Walter as he held up a gold half mask, in front of his face, with a silver moon on its forehead. 

"Its nice, what do you have planned?" 

Mulder picked up another mask that was similar to his and handed it to Walter. This one was silver with a gold sun on its forehead. "Masks for the parades tomorrow and for souvenirs." 

Skinner held it up to his face and looked in the mirror. He smiled. "Okay, at least it doesn't have feathers on it." 

They paid for the masks and headed out of the shop. The next place they entered was a designer clothing shop for men. The store clerk helped Skinner select a deep brown cashmere suit and a gold patterned tie. 

Mulder ran his hand over the soft fabric. He loved how perfectly Skinner filled out the suit...wide shoulders and narrow hips. "You look so handsome, Walter, I never noticed the flecks of gold in your eyes." 

Skinner's eyes sparkled at the compliment. "I feel decadent buying a suit this expensive. But it does feel nice against my skin and the fabric hangs nicely." 

"We don't have many customers that can wear one of our suits right off the rack without alterations. You have nice build, Mr. Skinner," the clerk said. 

"I'll say." Mulder leered. 

Skinner chuckled and stepped into the changing room. He changed out of the suit, hanging it on the hanger, then dressed and stepped out of the changing room. 

"Conner, can you pack up the suit and my other purchases, we'll be back in a couple of hours to pick them up. After we're done sightseeing." 

Skinner held Mulder's hand as they walked down the street, stopping to listen to a street musician at one corner. He thought he'd feel uncomfortable, holding another man's hand in public, but around them were other men, some being a little more intimate with each other than Skinner was being with Mulder. Skinner realized that Mulder had chosen the perfect place for them to begin a relationship together. 

"Hey, do you want to go to the cemetery? I heard the architecture of the tombs is interesting," Skinner said. 

"Ah, no, I'd prefer not to spend anytime at a cemetery." 

"Why not? I'd have thought you'd be interested." 

"Walter, just because I'm interested in the paranormal doesn't mean I'd want to spend my vacation visiting haunted houses or cemeteries!" Mulder snapped. 

Skinner frowned at the outburst. "Okay, Fox, I'm sorry I brought it up." 

Mulder sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. Can we just walk around today and look the sights?" 

"Sure, Fox." 

They arrived back at the inn a little before six o'clock. Their reservation at Brennan's was at seven, so they would have just enough time to shower and change clothes, and walk to the restaurant. 

Skinner laid his suit on the bed, then stripped down to his briefs and walked into the bathroom with his toiletry bag in hand to shave. Mulder followed him into the bathroom. He had stripped down to his white silk boxers. The sleeveless undershirt was gone and Skinner noted the light brushing of chest hair and the full dark nipples and flat abs. The small silver cross still hung around his neck from the thin silver chain. Skinner had always assumed that Mulder was Jewish. 

"I'm going to take a shower," Mulder announced as he walked over and turned on the faucet. 

"Would you like me to wash your back?" Skinner asked as he lathered up his face and pulled out his razor. 

"Unfortunately the shower stall isn't large enough for both of us. Maybe we can share a bath later." Mulder felt slightly self-conscious as he pulled off his boxers. He could feel Walter's eyes on him as he stepped into the shower. 

When he finished his shower and stepped out, Walter handed him a towel. 

"Have you ever had anal sex?" Skinner asked huskily. 

"No. In my short relationship with George, our sex life only involved hand jobs and blowjobs. He died before it could progress further," Mulder said. 

"I'd like you to fuck me tonight, and I want to fuck you but only when you're ready." Skinner's fingers brushed down the length of Mulder's penis and it swelled at the contact. 

Mulder hissed as his body flared with arousal. "Tonight, after dinner...Walter, I've been ready for years." 

Skinner pulled Mulder into his arms and kissed him. Their bodies felt perfect together. Mulder dropped the towel as he returned the kiss and wrapped his arms around Skinner's back. Their hips rocked as they rubbed their erections together. Skinner's large hands grasped and squeezed Mulder's buttocks pulling their bodies even closer together. The thrusting and rocking intensified until Skinner moaned his release into Mulder's mouth and hugged him tight. He reached down and jerked Mulder's cock until his lover came, too. It was official now in Skinner's mind that they were lovers. 

Skinner reluctantly ended the kiss. He felt sated and content as he rubbed the whisker burn on his cheek. "Fox, you need to shave and I need a shower." He stripped off his come stained briefs and stepped into the shower. 

"You're one passionate man, Walter Skinner. Just think of all the fun we could have had over the years in your office." Mulder's heart was pounding as he walked over to the sink and cleaned the come off his body with a washcloth then he started to shave. 

When Skinner finished his shower, Mulder was in the bedroom dressing. He joined him in the room naked and unselfconscious. Mulder's eyes appraised him. 

"I thought you were sexy with your clothes on." 

"You're one to talk." Skinner watched Mulder as they both dressed. The black suit made his lover look taller and more slender. He was in great shape for forty-one. The tie Mulder put on was a mottled mix of green, purple, and gold. It brought out the rainbow of colors that swirled through his hazel eyes. 

"Nice tie," Skinner said, fingering the fabric. 

"Do you think so? Did you know that purple, green, and gold are the colors of Mardi Gras?" 

"No, I didn't, but I should have guessed after seeing that color combination everywhere today." 

Skinner pulled on his new shoes that were a perfect match for the suit. He made sure that they were comfortable before buying them, since they would be walking to the restaurant and back. 

It was six-thirty by the time they left the inn and started walking to the restaurant. The evening was beautiful, the moon was a large ball overhead, and the streetlights illuminated the sidewalks. They held hands as they walked. The city was just as lively as it had been during the day, if not more. Skinner made sure he had his handgun clipped to his belt. He knew Fox was armed, he saw him slip the small gun into the ankle holster he was wearing. 

Skinner felt Mulder's grip tighten on his hand and his steps falter. "Fox, what's wrong," he asked as he noticed that Mulder eyes had widen fearfully and his features appeared pensive. 

Mulder licked his lips and shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go this way." 

"Fox, something is wrong. Who did you see?" 

"It's nothing, Walter. At least nothing that can hurt you." 

"But you're afraid. I can't remember ever seeing you afraid before." 

"I'll tell you about it over dinner," Mulder said. 

They arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later. 

Once they were seated, Mulder ordered a bottle of wine. He didn't speak until he had the wineglass in his hand. He looked into the golden liquid. "Walter, I seem to have picked up this unique ability that I think was brought on by being buried alive...dead or whatever the hell state I was in for three months in the cemetery." 

"What ability?" 

"I can see, speak, and interact with the dead as plain as I'm talking to you." 

Skinner didn't question whether his lover had this ability; he knew that Mulder wouldn't lie to him. "You're afraid of ghosts? Is that why you didn't want to visit the cemetery?" 

Mulder shrugged. "I'm not afraid of all of them...most aren't dangerous. However, I have been attacked on more than one occasion by ones that were." 

"They can physically harm you?" 

"Yeah, but luckily they seem to tire easily." 

"How can you defend yourself?" 

Mulder pulled the crucifix free from where it rested on his chest. "This helps somewhat. Some of them seem to have a fear of religious symbols. I found the cross to be the most affective, and if I can get to a church they usually won't go inside. Most seem to be tied to a specific area and cannot cross outside its bounds. I have been able to hit them back." 

"God, Fox." 

The waiter came to the table with their first course, oyster soup, and a basket of bread. 

"My Mom showed up once and protected me." Mulder smiled. "I've never seen her with that much fire when she was alive." 

"How can you tell which are the dangerous ghosts?" Skinner picked up the soupspoon. 

Mulder slowly ate his soup as he talked. Finally having someone he could confide in put his mind at ease. "The dangerous ghosts are the easiest to spot. They tend to have a darkness swirling around them, and a fiery aura to them." 

"You saw one as we were walking here," Skinner stated. 

"Yes. He was ranting and snarling at people passing him on the sidewalk. New Orleans has an unusual high number of ghosts haunting it." 

"Will you tell me when you see one?" 

"There are a couple in the restaurant but they're not malevolent." Mulder took a crusty roll out of the breadbasket. "Can we talk about something else? I don't want them to know I can see them." 

"They don't already know?" 

"Most don't know, unless I make eye contact with them. Sometimes I don't even know I'm seeing a ghost until it's too late, and they realize that I can see them." 

"Walter, you don't know what a pain it is to have a lonely ghost keeping you up all-night talking to you. Some of them don't even know that they're dead, and I'm the first human contact they've had in decades. It's particularly sad when it's a child." Mulder shuddered as he remembered a couple of times he soothed children that were long dead. 

"Okay, let's talk about something else." Skinner grabbed a roll from the basket. "Where are you living now?" 

"I'm currently homeless." 

"You can come back to D.C. and live with me." 

"Are you sure?" 

"I'm positive." 

Mulder smiled. 

They finished their soup in silence. The busboy took their empty bowls while the waiter placed a house salad in front of them. 

"Fox, after I received your postcard from Oklahoma City, it got me thinking about moving into a house," Skinner said cautiously. He didn't want to frighten Fox off by moving too quickly. 

"What type of house?" 

"I don't really know the style I'd like. It has to have a nice fenced in backyard, and I'd like it to be walking distance to a coffee shop." Skinner leaned back as the waiter placed the entre in front of them. 

They continued eating in silence for a few minutes. 

Mulder picked at the trout fillet. 

"What's wrong?" Skinner asked. 

"Hmm." Mulder looked up. "Oh, I was just thinking how I'd love to find a nice quiet place in a small town away from the stress and headache of the city." 

"Do you have a town in mind?" 

Mulder shrugged. "No." 

"Fox, live with me for a while, then if you're agreeable we can find a place together." 

Mulder looked across the table at Walter and smiled. "Okay. I think it's best that you know what you're getting yourself into before we attempt anything more permanent. So how's Alvin?" 

"Don't ruin my appetite, I still want to try their Bananas Foster." 

Mulder chuckled. "How's Doggett and Reyes doing on the X-Files?" 

"They don't have your passion. I wish I could have you work on the X-Files with John. I think you could teach him a lot." 

"It's not likely that I'll get my job back in the FBI. I don't know if I'd want to work there again." Mulder took a sip of wine. 

"How are you going to fight them?" Skinner asked. 

"I have a few options. I'll tell you about them some day." Mulder pushed his empty plate aside. He was nervous about tonight when he and Walter would finally sleep together. Walter had offered to be the bottom, but Mulder had always fantasized about Walter topping him. He'd been in control his whole life, the thought of someone he trusted taking control and making love to him was something he desperately wanted. Then again he did want to top Walter, and besides he'd never been penetrated before and Walter was large...huge. It was going to hurt. 

"What are you thinking about?" 

"About later tonight, when we get back to our room. I'm a bit nervous." 

"You don't have to be nervous, I'm not going to hurt you," Skinner said softly. 

Mulder looked around the restaurant and made sure no one was listening to their conversation. He whispered, "I want you to take my cherry, so it will hurt." 

"We don't have to do that tonight if you're nervous. It can wait until you're relaxed...we have plenty of time, Fox." 

"Yeah, but you know me, I like jumping in with both feet." 

Skinner chuckled. "We'll take it slow tonight." 

They finished dinner and the waiter came back with dessert. Skinner watched as he lit the rum and banana liquor soaking the bananas, flames leaped toward the high ceiling before the man extinguished the blaze. He added the bananas to two bowls filled with pound cake and vanilla ice cream then set them before Skinner and Mulder. 

"Thanks." Mulder smiled and picked up a spoon. 

Skinner ate quietly while glancing over at Mulder. He couldn't believe in an hour they'd be back at the inn and he'd finally have every one of his fantasies fulfilled, with the exception of fucking Fox. But knowing that the younger man was still a virgin in that area made Skinner feel better. Fox would have nothing to compare him against. 

"What do you want out of life?" Mulder asked suddenly, taking Skinner by surprise. 

Skinner stirred the melted ice cream with his spoon as he thought. "I no longer want the same things as I did when I was younger. My career used to be the most important part of my life, it no longer is." He sighed and looked into Mulder's eyes. "When you were abducted, it hurt so much. I should have told you how I felt when you returned, but I thought you and Scully were lovers, and William was your son." 

Mulder reached for Walter's hand and squeezed it. "Walter, if it helps, I had no idea who the baby's father was, and Scully didn't tell me until after she gave birth." 

They looked passionately into each other eyes, both knowing exactly what they wanted. The waiter returned with the bill. 

Mulder pulled out his credit card and laid it on the tray with the bill, which the waiter promptly took to ring up. 

The waiter returned. Mulder signed the credit card receipt and added a tip. He took a deep breath as he looked over at Skinner. Smiles spread across both of their lips. 

Mulder stood and held out his hand to his lover. "C'mon, Walter, we've wasted enough time." 

Skinner rose and took Mulder hand. They walked out of the restaurant and started the six-block trek back to the inn. 

At one point, Skinner noticed that Mulder had leaned up against him and closed his eyes. The AD wrapped an arm securely around his lover as they walked, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. "What did you see?" he whispered. 

"Walter, there's just so many of them out tonight." Mulder kept his head turned into Skinner's shoulder as they walked. He knew two things, if he didn't see the ghosts he'd pass right through them, but if he made eye contact with one it would be like bumping into a living person. 

"It's okay, we're back at the inn." Skinner led Mulder up the steps and inside. "Are you sure this place isn't haunted?" 

Mulder sighed and straightened. "It's one of the few places in the whole French Quarters that isn't." 

The front desk was empty and dark. Mulder hoped that Jon had remembered those items he wanted tonight. They quickly took the steps up to the second floor. A smile spread across Mulder's lips when they stepped into their room. The fire had been lit in the small hearth and candles burned on the mantel and nightstand. 

A bottle of champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice near the French doors leading out to the balcony, and two champagne flutes were sitting on the window ledge. 

Mulder looked lustfully at Walter as he started to strip. "I've always wanted to drink champagne while naked in bed with my lover on Valentine's Day." 

Skinner chuckled and started peeling off his clothes. He placed his holstered handgun on the dresser, and hung the suit in the tiny closet. 

Mulder had finished undressing a few minutes before him and stood watching as he removed his socks and underwear. 

The glow from the candles and the fire crackling in the hearth danced off their naked bodies, emphasizing the curves and sharp angles. They took their time admiring each other, time they hadn't taken earlier when they showered and changed for dinner. 

A smile spread across Mulder's lips as his hand caressed up Skinner's muscular chest. "I feel like I've won the jackpot. You're one well built man, Walter." 

"You're one to talk," Skinner said as he admired every part of Mulder's body starting with his perfect feet. He'd never seen feet more lovely, even on a woman. His eyes moved up the long toned legs to his lover's sex. Mulder was well endowed. His penis was already erect and at least nine inches in length and thick. Skinner thought he should be envious, Mulder had him beat by at least two inches, but Mulder's girth wasn't nearly as wide, so it seemed to balance them. 

Mulder walked over and picked up the champagne bottle. He peeled the tin wrapping away from the cork and twisted off the metal protector. He looked at Skinner as he pushed out the cork...it made a loud pop and flew into the fireplace. 

He filled the two champagne flutes before setting the bottle back in the ice bucket and picking up the flutes. Mulder handed one to Skinner. "I'd like to toast us." He held the flute out in front of him. "May the remainder of our lives be filled with love." 

Skinner clicked his glass against Mulder's and added, "And happiness." They took a sip from the flutes, never taking their eyes off the other, and then they set the flutes aside. They stepped into each other's arms, kissing and hugging, warm flesh against warm flesh. 

The wooden floor was cool beneath the soles of Mulder's feet. A chilly nighttime breeze blew in through the open French doors. Fortunately the heat from Walter's body took the chill away, so Mulder tried to get even closer. 

Mulder's fingers traveled down Walter's back...he enjoyed the feel of the taut muscles. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to finally have the man of his dreams. He moaned as Walter started sucking on the side of his throat. 

"Walter, would this be the wrong time to tell you that I love you?" 

Skinner chuckled and nipped at his neck. "There's never a wrong time." 

"You smell so good," Mulder purred, as he relished the attention his lover was showering on him. "I've always loved your aftershave and how it mixes with your natural scent." He sighed with contentment as Skinner continued to lick and kiss along his shoulder. 

It felt so good to be touched again after nearly a decade of relying on his own hand for pleasure. Mulder's fingers smoothed over his lover's scalp as Walter started teasing his nipples with his tongue and teeth. His cock throbbed and stood hard against his belly. 

"Stop, Walter, I'm not going to last if you keep that up and I want to make love to you." 

Skinner straightened, grinned, and caressed Mulder's smooth cheek with the backs of his fingers. "But, you're so fucking sexy, I can't help wanting to touch and lick you all over." 

Mulder took his hand and pulled him toward the bed. "You're my Valentine...now on your back." He picked up the bottle of scented massage oil. 

"What's that?" Skinner asked as he pulled down the bed covers. 

"Massage oil. I'm going to give you a massage before I fuck you." 

Skinner smiled and lay on the middle of the bed. His feet were planted on the mattress and his legs were spread allowing his balls to hang free while his cock lay hard against his belly. 

The mattress sank as Mulder climbed onto the bed. He straddled Skinner's waist, then squirted some oil into his hand, and set the bottle down. "Walter, tell me about your family?" He started on Walter's shoulder, kneading the firm muscles. 

Skinner enjoyed the strong fingers on his body. "My parents are still alive. They have a farm twenty miles from Ottumwa, Iowa." 

"You're from Iowa?" Mulder sat back and stared down at Walter's face. 

"Does that shatter some fantasy you've developed about me?" 

Mulder chuckled and went back to massaging the oil into Walter's flesh. "I knew you were from the Midwest, I assumed you grew up someplace like Illinois or Indiana." 

"Well at least you got the letter my state began with right." Skinner had a hard time thinking clearly, each time Mulder moved, his ass bumped against Skinner's swollen erection. "Why did you think I was from those two states and not Iowa?" 

"I imagined you growing up in a blue collar, union family, but not a farm family." 

Skinner smirked. "Well it makes me feel good that I fooled the FBI's best profiler." 

"The ex-FBI profiler," Mulder said. He leaned down and kissed Walter on the lips. "I hope my postcard from Iowa didn't offend you." 

"No, but it surprised me that one of your stops would be near where I grew up." 

Mulder continued massaging Walter, enjoying the feel of his body. His lips preceded his fingers as he kissed his way down the warm flesh. He placed a kiss on his lover's swollen sex but did not touch it further, even though he longed to take it in his mouth. He moved down Walter's legs until he reached his feet. He took extra care with each foot, like Amanda had taught him. When he finished massaging Walter's front, he patted him on the side. "On your belly, farmboy." 

Skinner looked down at his aching erection that had only gotten harder under Mulder's touch. He didn't want to lie on it. "You aren't serious, cityboy?" 

Mulder smirked and grabbed a couple of pillows. "I'm serious. Put these under your belly." 

Skinner took the pillows and placed them under his belly. He spread his thighs apart so his cock and balls hung free against the pillows. 

A smile spread across Mulder lips at the delicious sight. He kneeled between Walter's legs and started massaging his shoulder blades. 

Skinner closed his eyes as he took pleasure from Mulder's hands, working on his muscles. He thought of all the times that he'd arrived home from work stiff and sore how welcoming a massage would have been. 

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" 

"Yes. I was a middle child. I have an older brother and sister, and a younger brother and sister." 

"Five kids your parents must have been busy." Mulder placed a kiss on the small of Walter's back before moving on down to his ass. "It must have been nice having older siblings." 

"It was no picnic being a middle chi...." Skinner stopped talking and moaned when his lover's fingers started massaging his buttocks. He pushed into the pillow. "God, Fox, where did you learn how to massage?" 

Mulder poured some oil down Walter's crack. The liquid dripped over his balls. "Amanda taught me. It was part of her therapy program." He slipped a slick finger into the tight opening careful not to go too quickly. Mulder twisted his finger until he found Walter's prostate and started to massage it. 

A pleasure filled moan escaped Skinner's lips. "Ooooh....she didn't teach you how to do this, did she?" 

"As a matter of fact she did." 

Skinner looked over his shoulder at Mulder. "Fox?" 

"Don't worry, we weren't lovers. She's happily married." Mulder squirted more oil on his fingers then slipped another one inside Walter's body. 

"Remind me to send her a thank you note." Skinner lowered his head back on the mattress and went back to losing himself in Mulder's touch. It felt good to feel those fingers inside him. The tender way Fox was touching him made Skinner feel loved and worshiped. It had been so long since he'd had any sexual contact with another person. The last had been the prostitute, after her, he just couldn't take the chance of being set up again. 

After several minutes of stretching Walter, Mulder pulled his fingers free and reached for a condom. 

"I'm clean, Fox, you don't need that." 

"So am I, but I'd rather not take the chance...considering." Mulder rolled on the condom. 

"Considering what?" Skinner asked. 

"I've been abducted and experiment by aliens. I don't know what they did to me." 

"It couldn't be any worse than being infected by nanocytes." 

"At least the nanocytes aren't transmutable in their current state." Mulder spread oil over his rampant erection then asked, "Are you ready?" 

Skinner chuckled. "Since the moment I first laid eyes on you." He groaned as Mulder entered him. He felt a brief burning that muted into pleasure as his lover pushed slowly deeper. 

"God, Walter, you're so tight." His hands held onto Walter's hips as pushed the rest of the way inside. 

Skinner had the wonderful sensation of fullness, and he could even feel the large vein on the underside of Mulder's shaft pulsing inside of him. "Fox, you're so fucking big." 

"I'm not hurting you?" Mulder asked as he squashed the overwhelming urge to start thrusting into that sweet tightness. 

"No. Now stop talking and fuck me already!" 

Mulder chuckled. "I haven't heard that tone of voice since the last time you chew me out in your office." He pulled part way out and thrust back inside. 

"Oooh...yeah, that's the way I like it!" Skinner pushed back as Mulder continued to thrust in and out of him. The feeling of bliss encompassed Skinner's entire being at being one with his lover. "Harder, Fox." 

Mulder felt himself close to coming. He reached under Walter, grasped his cock, and started jerking him off in time with his thrusts. 

Skinner cried out as he came. His release spurted out of him onto the sheets and he briefly blacked out. It had been years since he'd come that hard. While he lay exhausted and fully sated, he felt his lover's orgasm a minute later. Mulder's weight pressed him into the mattress as he collapsed on top of him. If Skinner died right now with Fox inside of him and the weight of his warm body on top of him, he'd die one happy man. 

Mulder eventually pulled out and climbed off the bed. "Don't move, I'll be right back." 

Skinner didn't bother telling Fox that he had no plans of moving for a while. He just wanted to lie there and enjoy the afterglow of sex. He hoped Fox would hurry back to bed. The room was a bit chilly against Skinner's sweaty skin without Mulder's added body heat. He sighed contentedly as he felt a warm washcloth cleaning him. 

"You look absolutely debauched," Mulder murmured. 

"It's your fault. You've corrupted me," Skinner said huskily as he rolled over onto his side and dragged the pillows back to the head of the bed. 

Mulder carried the washcloth into the bathroom and returned with a dry towel that he placed over the wet spot. He shut the French doors to keep the chill out, then crawled into bed, and pulled the blankets up over them before snuggling up against Walter. 

As they lay in the warmth of each other's arms, Skinner's mind turned to Fox moving in with him. He found himself more excited about that event then he had been when he had left home for the first time to join the marines. 

"What did you do with your possessions when you moved out of your apartment?" Skinner asked. 

"I gave most of it to the Salvation Army, the items that held too much sentimental value the Gunmen are storing for me in the basement of their building. And Frohike got my porn collection. Why?" 

"I want to make room for you at my apartment. I thought you'd be more comfortable with some of your stuff--" 

"Walter, I just had my dick up your ass. My stuff's not going to make me feel any more comfortable with you than I do right now." Mulder smoothed his hand over Walter's bald scalp. "If this works out and we commit to something more permanent together, then we can get my stuff from the Gunmen." 

"It will work out, Fox, I love you," Skinner said as he rested a hand on Mulder's hip while looking into those beautiful hazel eyes. He planted a gentle kiss on the delectable mole. 

Mulder smiled softly. "And I love you, Walter. Thank you for being my Valentine today." 

Skinner hugged Mulder. "Next year you get to be my Valentine, and we'll put an arrow through that heart you made for me." 

Mulder rested his head on Walter's shoulder and placed a hand over his lover's heart. They fell asleep happier than either of them had been in years. 

* * *

The End 

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Jo B


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